


Alarms

by tosca1390



Category: West Wing
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-19
Updated: 2010-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-14 15:56:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tosca1390/pseuds/tosca1390
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Really, she could have looked at him looking at her for many moments more.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Alarms

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://shutterbug-12.livejournal.com/profile)[**shutterbug_12**](http://shutterbug-12.livejournal.com/) . She requested _The West Wing, Josh/Donna, snowflakes_. Filled for _Inauguration: Over There_.

*

He said _you look amazing_ , a little short of breath, hoarse; and the alarms went off immediately in the back of Donna’s mind. The smile curling her mouth, the flush on her cheeks she couldn’t blame on the cold—it was all adding up to trouble in River City, and she had to look beyond Josh, to acknowledge the others just to keep her sanity.

Really, she could have looked at him looking at her for many moments more. It was another moment to add to Josh and Donna’s collection of _should have-would have-could have-maybe someday_ file that sometimes she pieced over in the few-and-far-between still moments of her life. Between the stories he found endearing, to not stopping for red lights, to the red dress from the insurance lobbyist date from hell, and all the other weird and precious moments in between, she and Josh had a catalog that would make Rob Reiner and Gary Marshall jealous.

This had felt different, though. She had lied, and he had yelled, and it had all been over a man she was seeing; they had been in this circuit before, with Cliff, but there was something _more_ to it. Josh took this personally, more so than Cliff and the diary; she couldn’t tell why, but thinking about it (as she had been for hours and hours now) made her anxious, her stomach tied up in knots.

Pressed into the cab, Josh’s coat draped over her shoulders, his arm over her waist, his breath on her bare neck, she could barely breathe. Charlie and Danny were debating the merits of French royalty, Will and Toby were doing a bizarre writer’s post-mortem on the speech (it didn’t surprise her; Will smacked closely of Sam, with that weird writer’s instinct, and it all made sense, really), but she felt as if she and Josh were in their own part of the world, cold and snow-silent.

As the cab rumbled down silent streets, snow began to fall again, slow and soft against the windows. She watched the drift of it, trying to ignore the full burn of Josh’s hand through her dress.

“I thought you were past bending over backwards for undeserving men.”

She twisted her face around to look at Josh. His face was unreadable, a rare moment for her. “He wasn’t undeserving.”

“He let you lie. I’d call that undeserving,” he muttered.

The streetlamps cast odd shadows across the lines of their bodies, snow softening the lines of his mouth. She shut her eyes for a moment. “I don’t look for opportunities to subjugate myself, Josh,” she said testily.

The cab slowed, came to a stop. Quickly, before Josh could open his mouth, she opened the car door and tumbled out, catching herself on the hood of the cab. People milled about in their finery; even in her new dress, she still felt like a farm girl from Wisconsin.

“I didn’t _say_ that,” Josh said, abruptly at her side. His hand caught her elbow, pulling her along the sidewalk. Toby, Will, Charlie and Danny all walked ahead towards the doors of the building; the music curled out into the snowy stillness. “Just—god, Donna, I don’t get it.”

Snowflakes caught along his hairline, the shoulders of his tuxedo jacket. She sighed. “I said I was sorry—“

“This isn’t about sorry or whatever,” he muttered. “This is about you.”

“And you,” she said quietly.

He stopped at the top of the steps, just feet from the entrance. Warm yellow light slid across part of his face. “I’d never ask you to lie for me, Donna,” he said, quite soberly.

She blinked the snow from her eyes, willing the chill to cool her flushing cheeks. There was nothing funny or mean to say to that. “Thank you, Josh,” she said softly.

Josh just watched her for a moment, his hand still heavy on her elbow. Snow curled in the space between them, sparse and soft against her skin. With Jack barely gone, and a whole four years ahead of her and Josh, there was nothing she really could say except _thank you_. She had her career to think about, after all, and Josh’s too.

After a moment, he guided her towards the entrance. “Come on, Donnatella. Let’s get you a drink,” he said with a small grin.

 _Add this to the file, then_ , she thought sadly as they stepped into the warm building, Toby and the others waving drinks at them. The music drowned out the hard beating of her heart, but even hours later, she could still feel the outline of Josh’s hand on her skin, and that was the biggest alarm of all.

*


End file.
